


Stand Up, Hands Up (Show Me What You’re Made Of)

by Motionallyperpetual



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Be patient, Cat Lover Gavin Reed, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Nines has not deviated, Not Beta Read, Not between Gavin and RK900, Protective Upgraded Connor | RK900, Slow Burn, Vintage Junkie Gavin, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2020-03-04 23:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Motionallyperpetual/pseuds/Motionallyperpetual
Summary: Gavin Reed is many things. Everyone thinks they have him all figured. Gavin supposes he'll let them. Gavin lives his life. Fills the roles he has to. Then the RK900 shows up, deviates, and Gavin's life is turned upside down.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I will try and be a good writer and update this one often.

Gavin Reed is many things. If you asked Hank Anderson, he’d describe him with words like hard-headed. A pain in the ass. Barely tolerable. An asshole. A hardworking asshole, but an asshole nonetheless. If you asked Jeffrey Fowler, he’d come up with something similar: A barely tolerable, hard-headed, pain the ass detective, albeit a hardworking and extremely skilled one. But if you asked Gavin Reed’s fiancé, he’d spit out words like a pathetic, ugly, waste of space, idiot of a human being. The one thing that Hank Anderson, Jeffrey Fowler, and Matthew Giddings all would say, however, is that Gavin Reed is barely tolerable. 

Gavin thinks, if that’s the role he has to live out his life in, then fuck it, so be it.

Everyone thinks they have him all figured out.

Gavin supposes he’ll let them.

 


	2. 2

Gavin doesn’t have the most stable work hours. It comes with the job. He is more than okay with this. His fiancé, however, is most certainly not. At least, that’s what he thinks the blow to his face means, when he unlocks his front door and rounds the corner into the kitchen.

It’s nine thirty, which is two and a half hours past his usual arrival time. The android revolution shit meant the plastic pricks have rights now, and so every time one shows up dismembered in an alley, he is the sorry bastard that has to investigate it. Which also means he has to stay late. And by the nature of the butterfly effect, he gets the shit beat out of him from the love of his fucking life, apparently. To be fair, though, Matthew tends to only get physical when he’s drunk, so it’s been a while since Gavin has come into work boasting about a bar fight the night before that never really happened. And by a while, he means five weeks. He’ll take what he can fucking get.

“ _Shit_ ,” Gavin hisses as his head jerks back from the impact, dropping his keys and bringing his arms up to shield his face on instinct. 

Matthew takes the opportunity to direct his attention to Gavin's abdomen, landing a punch just under his ribs, enough force to take the breath from him.

Gavin wheezes as Matthew backs him into the kitchen counter, hunching over Gavin’s already small form in comparison curling into himself.

“Look. At. Me.” Matthew spits out, snatching Gavin’s hair and forcing his head back, making Gavin look at him. The bitter smell of alcohol reached Gavin’s nose, curling around him and making him gag.

Gavin looks at the space between Matthew’s brown eyes, his own right eye pulsing in pain from the punch. And _damn_ if it didn’t hurt like a bitch. One small win of his own he had is that he wasn’t looking directly into his eyes. Even if he did, he knew he’d see a pair of dilated chocolate brown eyes staring back at him, which under another circumstance would be a beautiful sight. But right about now they would be filled with a hateful rage that Gavin somehow caused. _Always_ caused.

“Why didn’t you text me, Gav? I told you to  _always_ text me when you go out,” Matthew breathed down at Gavin, his hot breath reaching down and brushing against Gavin’s face.

“Fuck, Matt, I _did_ , I _swear_ , I messaged you at six thirty. And I _didn’t_ go out, I had to work,” Gavin pleaded. Fuck, he just wanted to take a shower and go to _bed_.

Matthew took Gavin by his hair and threw him down on the kitchen floor. Gavin’s cheek hit the cold tiles, and he closed his eyes. He’s getting sick of this shit, damn it.

“Next time you call me, understand? Can’t expect me to open every goddamn message I get in a day,” Matthew huffed angrily, stomping out of the kitchen to god knows where, hitting the wall with his shoulder as he turned the corner, shit coordination from a drink too many.

Gavin lays on the cool tile for a couple of minutes before standing up, his body groaning in protest. While he is in the kitchen, he grabs an ice pack from the freezer, gingerly pressing it to his eye. He also takes some acetaminophen from the medicine cabinet above the stove and knocks back five hundred milligrams dry, because he knows too well that the soreness is going to hit him all at once when he lays down to sleep.

Gavin heads to the living room, sits on the old leather couch, and takes off his boots in the darkness. He couldn’t be bothered to get up and turn on the light, and the kitchen light casts just enough light for him to see, anyways.

The house is now eerily silent, save for the hum of the old AC unit running. The piece of shit was broken, so it ran twenty-four-seven, and consequently, the apartment was perpetually freezing.

Gavin reaches down and slides his pajamas out from under the couch. They are his favorite and doesn’t want Matthew destroying them or some shit. That’d _really_ make his week.

The dark green hoodie is noticeably worn, and after he takes his shirt off and pulls it over his body, he notices the logo reading THE NORTH FACE  is starting to flake. Gavin pulls off his pants and on the equally worn gray sweatpants. _Fuck it_ , he thinks to himself as he lies back onto the couch, _I’ll take a shower in the morning._ And shit is he glad he that Anderson brought him back some takeout for dinner back at the precinct.

And so he lays there, head resting on the throw pillow, one hand holding the ice pack to his swollen eye, and the other setting an alarm for the morning.

 

_Everyone thinks they have him all figured out.._

 


	3. 3

When Gavin woke up, he asked himself three things. The first being, _Where the hell is my fucking phone?_ Because Jesus, that alarm is loud as hell. And he refused to even open his eyes until at least five minutes after he woke up, because _fuck that,_ so he felt around until he found his phone lodged halfway under his back.

The second thing he thought was, _Did I even fucking sleep?_ It felt like he had just closed his eyes a minute before his alarm started screaming at him. The final thing Gavin asked himself was something along the lines of _What the fucking shit is on my chest?_

He opened his eyes to see his a pair of blue eyes staring back at him three inches from his face. More specifically, his cats' blue eyes. Minnie. 

_Mrrow?_ The sphinx seemed to ask him, in the loudest manner fucking possible at the ass crack of dawn. Gavin relaxed at the revelation, laughing a little to himself as he exhaled, dropping his phone back onto the couch in favor of petting her. 

“Good morning to you too, asshole,” Gavin said quietly, but his words carried no bite, only affection. The motorboat of a purr that emitted from the little shitbird from her spot on Gavin’s chest almost made him want to relax and go back to sleep. More than almost. And then he remembered the reason _why_ he had to wake up early. Earlier than usual. 

Gavin sighed, picking up the sphinx as he sat up in one fluid movement, the bones in his back cracking in protest. “Sorry _Minnie The Moocher,_ I gotta get up,” Gavin said in apology as he set her on the floor.

Shuffling into the kitchen, the next thing he did was knock back a thousand more milligrams of pain medicine, because _god damn_ did his eye hurt. He couldn’t _wait_ to see that beauty staring back at him in the mirror. The clock on the oven read five forty-two AM. That left him with about an hour before he had to head out.

The next thing Gavin had to do was play maid and clean up the mess Matt left for him in his drunken path last night. Between the kitchen and the living room, Gavin counted fourteen _Yuengling_ beers, and he’s pretty positive there will be more to find in his bedroom. _His_ bedroom he didn’t even get to fucking sleep in last night. Yeah, he’s a little pissed off. Sue him. But god help him if he let that on to Matt when he saw him next. Yeah, he’ll pass on that pissy fit, thanks.

Speaking of, he better go make sure he didn’t choke on his vomit in his sleep. As he walked down the hallway and into his room, Gavin cringed when the old floors creaked underneath his weight, despite knowing his fiancé probably wasn’t going to be waking up any time soon. Walking into his room, he was met with the sight of Matt sleeping like a fucking baby, sprawled across the entire bed. 

Still, Gavin was in and out faster than a blink of an eye and quieter than a mouse, grabbing his clothes and a towel, closing the door softly behind him. Turning on the light in the bathroom, Gavin could see the damage he’d be proudly wearing on his face today. The bruise covered his entire eye, up to his eyebrow and dripping into the ever-present undereye bags on his face. It was a vibrant mix of red and purple, contrasting his skin tone harshly. Gavin sighed to himself, turning on the shower and letting it heat up before stepping in. 

From the moment Gavin stepped out of the shower to the moment he stepped into the precinct, Gavin let himself run on autopilot. Dry off. Get dressed. Brush teeth. Brush hair. Hide PJs. Feed cat. Get in car. Drive to precinct. He couldn’t even think about putting on a show until he got coffee in his system, either. And that is precisely the reason he puts in the effort to show up before most of his colleagues. Break room all to himself, ten minutes or so to enjoy his damn coffee and work up to being the asshole everyone knows and loves.

So imagine his fucking surprise when he walks into the break room and Captain fucking Fowler of all people is leaning against the counter, obstructing the coffee pot from Gavin’s view.

“Uh, _Cap_?” Gavin ventured, a small nervousness creeping into his voice, in the same way weeds creep up the red brick walls in the back of the building.

Fowler sighed when he saw Gavin, and the mess that was his right eye, and shifted so as to allow Gavin access to the coffee pot. Gavin remained motionless at the door frame.

“Look, son, I want you to hear me out. And then I need you to choose what you next say to me **very** carefully, because I will not hesitate to write you up, _again_. You’re not going to like it, but it’s out of my hands,” Fowler said tiredly, forehead creasing as he looked Gavin in the eyes from his place across the room

“Just give it to me straight, Cap. What the hell is going on?” Gavin asked, trying to sound casual when in reality he was trying to brace himself for the news. What could possibly be so bad that Fowler thought cornering him in the break room before he was even officially on the clock was the best way to tell him?

Fowler closed his eyes, slightly bowing his head before he spoke.

“You have a new partner. He is an android. RK900, the most advanced manufactured by Cyberlife before the revolution.”

Gavin swallowed thickly, before locking his jaw in a strange mix of resentment, determination, and rage. 

“When does it start?” Gavin spit out behind clenched teeth, trying to stop himself from saying something that’ll cost him his badge.

 

“Today.”

 

_Fuck_ _me._

 


	4. 4

Gavin spent the next seven or so minutes fuming to himself at his desk, letting the freshly made, and consequently scalding hot, coffee slide down his throat, burns be damned. Fowler had since locked himself in his office, holographic blinds activated. Must be nice.

And that son of a bitch had the _gall_ to threaten a demotion or even a pink slip if he refused to have a walking toaster up his ass for the foreseeable future. Fuck that.

Gavin was about halfway into his novel on this absolute fuckery he was typing up on his phone to Tina when he noticed a very sudden absence of light in front of his desk. He quickly flicked his gaze up and then back down at his phone without missing a beat in the dance that was his thumbs across the screen.

_Holy. Shit._

Not only did they make a plastic prick his partner, they made a _6’2_ plastic prick his partner.

“Detective Reed. I am RK900. I have been designated to be your partner. I will be assisting you from now on in all cases assigned to you.”

Gavin’s hand stilled. It sounded… like Connor, but also… not? Slightly deeper. Colder. And… more mechanical?

Well, fuck him. 

The tin can hasn’t even deviated?

He knew that some androids didn't want to be deviant and asked to be reset or even deactivated, but he'd thought the higher-ups would at least have the fucking decency to give him a fully functional toaster. Guess not.

Gavin set his phone down on his desk, and stood up, getting a proper look at the thing.

Gavin crossed his arms and jutted his chin upwards a bit, to compensate for the height difference. Smirking to himself, he noticed a few more differences between this toaster and its clone.

The eyes were the most distinct, aside from height. This one has hard, cobalt blue eyes, instead of warm brown eyes. It also dressed differently. 

Connor had since shed the Cyberlife uniform in favor of more expressive clothing, but this one hadn’t, despite Cyberlife undergoing a brand and management change.

The brow bone seemed to be further down on this ones face, and it’s cheekbones less defined. 

Gavin internally laughed. The plastic prick seemed to have a perpetual resting bitch face. Fitting. 

“Detective Reed? Did you hear me? I was not informed of any hearing disabili-”

 The RK900 was cut off by a string of profanity, “Are you fucking - No, fuck you, my hearing is fucking perfect, what the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Gavin knew he needed to keep it dialed back to keep Fowler off his ass, but that was the best he could do. What kind of fucking android says that shit?!

Okay, truth be told, his hearing is not _fucking perfect,_ he’s half deaf in his left ear, but no one needs to know that shit. That shit is fucking _private._

Gavin watched as the RK900 blinked several times before speaking again. He must’ve been caught off guard. Gavin 1, Walking Toaster 0.

“I apologize, Detective. My mistake. May I take a desk?” The toaster didn’t sound remorseful in the slightest, and already was eyeing the desk next to Gavin’s. 

“Damn right, your mistake. I don’t give a rat’s ass, just leave me be,” Gavin huffed, sitting back down in his own desk, picking up where he left off in his novel as his coworkers started to trickle in the precinct.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more very soon, I pinky promise. Just getting this little bit out so everyone knows I have not abandoned this story. Also, setting some stuff up in this chapter for later reference. Next chapter may be in RK900's POV. I think I quite like writing from RK900's POV. What do y'all think?


	5. 5

**DPD Central Station**  

February 5th, 2039

7:58 AM

* * *

  
  


MODEL RK900

SERIAL # 313 248 317 - 87

 

REBOOTING…

LOADING OS ...

SYSTEM INITIALIZATION

CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS ... OK

THIRIUM LEVEL 97% 

INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS … OK

AI ENGINE … OK

MEMORY STATUS … OK

ALL SYSTEMS … OK

ALL SYSTEMS READY

AWAKE FROM SLEEP MODE?

[ **YES** /NO]

 

Two weeks had passed since the RK900 had initiated sleep mode. A quick scan of the room noted that nothing had changed. Nobody had been in the evidence locker since the android and Captain Fowler had last spoken. 

In all likelihood, Captain Fowler had barred anyone from entering, but that was neither here nor there. What mattered was that the RK900 had approximately two minutes before the workday would officially begin, and he needed to meet his partner, Detective Gavin Reed.

 Captain Fowler had informed him that it would be for the best to wait until the last possible second to introduce himself to Detective Reed, and ideally under circumstances that involved other people in the vicinity.

 Detective Reed is, apparently, an extremely unpleasant person to work with, and thus has not been able to keep a partner for the past two years, one month, five days. “ _An added challenge to overcome_ ,” as the Captain had put it. The RK900 model was built for overcoming any challenge, this one no exception. 

 

** MISSION UPDATED **

GAVIN REED 

> Introduce Self

> Collect Information on GAVIN REED

 

It was exactly 8:00 AM when the RK900 walked into the bullpen from the evidence locker, striding straight to Detective Reed’s desk. While several people were walking into the precinct and a few people were in the breakroom, the Detective was the only one already situated at his desk. 

“Detective Reed. I am RK900. I have been designated to be your partner. I will be assisting you from now on in all cases assigned to you.”

Despite making his presence known, Gavin Reed did not acknowledge him, opting to keep his head bowed in favor of his phone. Unless the Detective had a hearing disability that Captain Fowler had failed to disclose?

In one swift motion, Gavin stood up from his desk, and set the phone down, and simply stared at the RK900. He appeared to have some sort of inside joke with himself.

“Detective Reed? Did you hear me? I was not informed of any hearing disabili-” RK900 tried again, before being cut off.

 “Are you fucking - No, fuck you, my hearing is fucking perfect, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Detective Reed spat out, the flow of his words akin to a broken car sputtering to life.

A preliminary scan noted several things to log about the Detective. 

 

GAVIN REED: 

> **Date of birth:** October 7, 2002 

> **Height:** Approximately 5’9 ft 

> **Body** : Angular, Fit, Approximately 175 Lbs

> No spouse on record

> No children on record

> Level 2 Scarring on nose, >4 years old

> Level 3 Bruising on right eye, likely inflicted from human fist, recently acquired

> Medical Record: Sealed [UNSEAL?]

The RK900 blinked. Clearly, he had somehow hit a nerve, and the Detective was far more.. expressive than he initially prepared for. Perhaps appearing submissive would make him more agreeable. It was already 8:03 and he hadn’t started working yet.

“I apologize, Detective. My mistake. May I take a desk?” He asks, knowing that the only available one is next to his partner. Captain Fowler specifically kept this one empty as the station filled up with the new hires since the revolution. 

“Damn right, your mistake. I don’t give a rat’s ass, just leave me be,” Reed said as he sat down, his attention back to his phone rather than his work computer. 

 

RESELECTING PRIMARY MISSION: FIND AND COMPLETE WORK ASSIGNMENT

> Inquire GAVIN REED about a work assignment

 

Sitting at the empty desk, RK900 turned to his partner, opened his mouth to inquire about their first assignment as partners, when the answer was given to him before he even asked.

“Before you bother, I don’t have any active cases right now. Open your email, Cap sent out an announcement,” Gavin said without looking up from his phone, and to the androids surprise, without any vulgar language, albeit a bit of bite in his tone.

Captain Fowler had indeed sent an email. There was a debriefing in forty-five minutes. His primary mission would have to wait.

 

SECONDARY MISSION: 

>Collect Information on GAVIN REED

 

Looking at Detective Reed's desk, RK900 noted that he kept his workspace organized, but not obsessively so. His trash bin revealed that he frequently consumed coffee and beef jerky. 

In the corner of his desk resided a framed picture of Gavin and a woman smiling, standing in front of a red brick wall that had FUCK THE POLICE crudely spray painted on it. 

 

Scanning…

OFFICER TINA CHEN

 

Did the Detective have friends amongst his coworkers? Captain Fowler made it appear as if he had driven everyone away from him. Perhaps that was who he was currently messaging?

Nothing else seemed of significance on his desk. RK900 scanned Reed again, perhaps he had missed something worthwhile.

 

GAVIN REED: 

> **Date of birth:** October 7, 2002 

> **Height:** Approximately 5’9 ft 

> **Body** : Angular, Fit, Approximately 175 Ibs

> No spouse on record

> No children on record

> Level 2 Scarring on nose, >4 years old

> Level 3 Bruising on right eye, likely inflicted from a human fist, recently acquired

> Medical Record: Sealed [UNSEAL?]

...

> Medical Record: Sealed [UNSEAL?]

[UNSEAL PROHIBITED UNLESS IN ABSOLUTE EMERGENCY]

[ **YES** /NO]

 

^S̸̲͚̳͕̯͇͇͖̩̰̓̀͑̆̌̿̕o̵̡̨͖̟͙̭̜̣͑̏̑͌̿̇͋f̷̱̲͍̯͎͔̅̄͒̂͒͆̈́̈ͅͅt̸͈͎̬̂̈̅͒̈́͜ẇ̷̧̬̦̱̲̈́̀a̸̦͚͆͒̆r̷̢͖̪͍̃͆͂͆e̶̻̼̭͇̅ ̷̢̝̫͔̪̘̬̻̆͋̈͌̍̍͜͠͠ͅI̸̢̲͕̠̰͙̻̐̆͘ͅn̶̤͎̹̙͈̰̈́̾͛̈́̊͒̎̆s̵̗̞̘͍̮̻̥̰̣̃ͅt̴̜̙͑̏̕a̵̲̼͕̔̈́̕̕b̸̻̟̣̦̬̔ͅì̴̢̺̠̼̠͎͓͙̈́̍l̸̗̠̊̔̎̎̎ĭ̸̼̫̖͊̃̾͆̕t̶̢̧̨̖͇̙̘̩̰͓̔͂͑͒̆͂̕y̴̹͔̻͉̗̤͖̑̍

Y̷̡̟̘̖̮̻̅̈́͋̊̕͝ó̵̡̨̼͇̳͕̺͈̓̔͜ͅų̶̛̺͚̟̭̙͚̳̦̀̉ ̸̢̮̯͈̯͙̅͠ͅa̷̡̞͎̮̮̖̻̻̓r̷͎̩͊͜ę̶̠̮̰̘̋͆̾̍͒̽͘̚ ̸̧̩̯̰̜̼͕̲̙͐͒̔͝ȃ̷͚͔̠̘̜̘̺̺̀ͅ ̷͔̋̀̈́̽̈̒͘͘͝m̵̛̗͚͉͇̦͉̺̙̲̓͋͜a̷̓̋̅ͅc̵̛͈̉́̈́͗͗̃̇̌͠h̴̨͈͈̯̼̘̅̓͠í̴̯͈͙̝͚͊ͅň̵̻̐̈͆͘͝ȩ̷̧̳̳̹̣͕͉͕͌̾͒

ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴄʜɪɴᴇ 

ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴄʜɪɴᴇ 

ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴄʜɪɴᴇ 

  
....

 

ACCESS DENIED.

 

The RK900 blinked, taken aback. Access denied? How was that even..

“What the fuck?!” Gavin seethed from his desk, looking across the bullpen, seemingly at nothing, before aggressively throwing his now empty coffee cup in the garbage.

“Detective Reed? Is there an issue?” RK900 furrowed his brow in confusion. What could have possibly set him off?

His partner spun around in his chair to look at him, before looking back down at his phone. “Fuck yeah there is, someone is trying to hack my shit!”

RK900 felt...s̸̩̟̐͂̓̈́̍̕o̴̡̺͈̠̞͆̋̆͋͌̈́̈́͠m̴̛̟̩̰͚̯͇͂͑̾̎̚ę̶͇̪̖͎̫̻̗͇̳̉ṫ̵̮͉̀̉̓̃͠h̶̨̧̛̠͉̍̑̄̌̚̕̚i̸̬͖̭̖̺͉̍̑̿̔͗n̴̡̨̯͓̥̈́̉̈́̄͘g̴̡͈̠̪͇̽͊̓ 

ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ.

Surely Detective Reed couldn’t know what he was doing?

“That is certainly alarming, Detective Reed. Would you like me to look into it for you?”

“No thanks, toaster. I can handle my own shit.”

RK900 nodded in response, though it was unnecessary, as the Detective stomped into the breakroom, for presumably another coffee.

 

GAVIN REED: 

> Highly technologically proficient 

> W̷͚̦̏̃̈́͂͛͜͝ͅḧ̶̭͎͐̿͆̄͑̽̕͝a̵̧̬̩̞̭͍̤͗̓̽̾͘͜͝t̵̛̲͚̃͋͆̉̒̿̿͠ ̵̟̔̄̊̕̕ị̴͓͚̋͋̿̅̐͒̚s̶̞̉̓̈́̎̋̈͊̐͝ ̴̛̜̗̺̣̃̃͐̉͛̂̄͂h̴̨̰̪̼͓̘͓̄̿̎͑ĕ̷̥̝͎̘̈́̄͘ ̵͇̲̤̼̥́̈́̆̒̐͌̕ḧ̵̢̢͉̒̎̉i̵̤͋̉̍̐̒͗̊͝d̶̢̛̓͌͗͝ȉ̶̱̻̼̔̾͆̿̌́͊̕n̷͙̮̣̭͊g̶̳̲͔̞̖͕̺̐̊̊̌͋̀̓͌̕͠?̷̤̈́̈́͠͝

 


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been on vacation. Don't yell at me. Anyways, this is a baby update. I have the next chapter written up, I'll be posting it later tonight.

 Gavin should have known the universe wasn’t done fucking him over for the day when he got up to go to the debreifing and he saw the rats nest Anderson has the nerve to call  _ hair _ in the doorway, and his brown-nosing tin can attached at his hip. 

Gavin squeezed his way into the office, the walking plastic close behind him. Eventually, the four of them stood in a horseshoe around Fowler’s desk, just waiting with bated fucking breath for the fuckery that was about to commence. 

It  _ should  _ have been a blissfully fucking quiet wait, but Anderson’s plastic pet just had to stick his nose where it didn’t belong.

“Gavin? May I ask what happened to your eye?”

“What do you think happened? Some dipshit thought he could take me at the bar last night.  _ Thought  _ being the key word here. You shoulda seen what  _ he  _ looked like,” Gavin smirked, all false confidence and lies.

“...And just because you came over  _ once  _ doesn’t mean you can call me Gavin. Knock that shit off,” He added as an afterthought, crossing his arms across his chest.

Connor nodded, but his LED cycled yellow, as he looked just next to Gavin.

Turning, Gavin could see the RK900’s LED also cycling yellow. 

“So, is anyone else invited to the conversation? Or would you like to share with the class?” Hank snorted, sending a wink to Connor.

Gavin gagged comically, making sure Anderson saw. 

 

 With a final, intentionally louder than necessary few clicks of the mouse, Fowler turned his attention to them, speaking with a sort of fake, forced energy behind his tired voice.

“Alright! Before anyone gets their panties in a twist, just know I can and will take your badge. Okay? Okay, Great.”

Though it was obviously rhetorical, Gavin saw Connor and his clone nod from opposite peripherals. Of course.

“So, we all know that android hate crimes have risen dramatically in the last couple months. Unfortunately, there have been a string of related android murders in the last two weeks. It doesn’t seem to be stopping any time soon, either, so I’m going to need some diligent investigative work done, boys.” Fowler leaned forward, resting his arms on the edge of his desk.

“So, what does this have to do with me? I run the narc shit now, not homicide,” Gavin implored, really  _ really  _ hoping this is some mistake so he can get back to catching shitty Red Ice dealers.

“Well I'm glad you asked, Reed. It turns out that the reason these androids died is because someone has been lacing Thirium drinks with a new drug. We don’t know what to call it yet, but we know that once consumed, it locks up the joints so they can’t move, and then attacks and destroys the vital biocomponents until the victim, well, dies.”

“I don’t believe this shit,” Gavin breathed to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

“Well, believe it. I need the four of you to  _ work together  _ and solve this case before the media gets a hold of it. The files have just been emailed to you. Understood?”

“Got it,” Hank mock saluted, lazing his way out of the office, Connor in tow.

 

 “Why are you doing this to me, Cap? You and I both know I’m not needed here,” Gavin tried, eyes silently pleading with the older man.

“Reed, what did I say? No twisted panties, that’s exactly what I said! And you and I both know  _ exactly  _ why you’re perfect for this investigation,” Fowler conceded, giving him a knowing look.

_ “Phck!” _ Gavin turned around and marched out of the office, his mood plummeting even further when he realized the tin can had been listening to the whole thing.

He doesn’t need anyone or anything in his business. That shit is between him and Fowler only.

So Gavin sat down. He pulled up the case files. He started working. And thus began the series of events that changed his life. Funny how that works.

 


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a dumb fuck and didn't hit "post" when I added the last chapter. Feel free to roast me in the comments.

_Connection requested: Model RK800 Serial Number #_ _313 248 317-51_

 _Accept?_  

[ **Yes** /No]

...

Connection Established!

 

_-I believe Detective Reed is not being entirely truthful._

 

_Yes, I also got that impression. I also believe he is hiding something else._

 

_-Perhaps they are connected?_

 

_Yes, that is a possibility I am considering. I am also concerned that it may impede his ability to contribute to the investigation as optimally as possible. As such, it may be beneficial that I look into it._

 

_-Tread lightly, little brother._

 

Connection Ended.

Retry?

[Yes/ **No** ]

 

L̵̨̞͈̗̲̙͎̒̉̄͘i̵̛̱͒̇͂̈́̆̋̏͠t̴̫͉͛̿́̄̈́̚ț̵̛̊̀̂͐̆̌̈́̚͝l̷̗͍̑ë̵̪́̓̌͑̄͑̎͒ ̶̢̡̟̟̹̤͓͕̭͑͋b̶̼̟̺̅̅̃͛̔͜͝ȑ̶͎̘̪͍͛̇̈́̇̍͝ơ̸͇̝͎͑̓͝t̵̡̘̰̜̫͚̝͎̗̞̑̃͆h̴̜̻͍̉̾̊͐̔̇̒̂̽̈́e̵̱͕̐̔̎̉͌̔͘͠r̷̢̻͔̭͍͉̔͐͝?̶̘͛ͅ  

 

Connor seems to believe they have a familial relationship, despite communicating only a few times prior. Interesting.

 

By the end of Captain Fowler’s debriefing, RK900 was already forming theories about the case. At least, until hearing a conversation obviously not meant for anyone’s ears but the Detective and the Captain. A moment of error on Reed’s part, that only furthered the RK900’s suspicion that he was hiding something.

RK900’s eyes followed Detective Reed as he stomped out of the office, foul mood fueled by discovering his partner never left the room.

An issue that could not be ignored, however, is how apparent it is that Captain Fowler not only knows, but also believes that it is beneficial to the investigation. So, if the Captain of the DPD is permitted to know, why couldn’t the Detectives partner know? Especially if it would help the investigation? It was worth investigating, for the sake of completing the case as efficiently as possible.  

 

RK900 nodded at Fowler before leaving the office, and immediately sitting down to work.

A glance to the right confirmed that Detective Reed was also getting to work.

 

Approximately three hours had passed before it was lunchtime.  Not soon after Lieutenant Anderson and Connor left the precinct for a lunch break, Detective Reed moved to do the same. RK900 watched as he locked his computer and stood up, popping his bones from disuse.

RK900 followed suit, standing up from the terminal silently.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Reed scoffed, putting on his jacket as he walked away from his desk.

RK900 followed, but decided to remain silent in an effort to maintain some peace.

“Hey, panini head, are you listening to me?” Reed stopped just outside the break room, turning to look at it.

“Oh my god, Gavin, you can’t just _say_ that!”

RK900 tracked the sound of the voice, watching as Officer Chen emerged from the break room, clearly amused.

RK900 looked slightly down at the Detective, “Connor accompanies Lieutenant Anderson on his lunch break. Given that I am your partner, I propose that I do the same. Perhaps we could converse about our findings thus far on the -”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Reed interrupted, waving his hands dismissively.

“You wanna come? Fine. But no _‘conversing’_ about the case. It’s called a _break_ for a reason. Clear?”

RK900 nodded, “I am clear.”

“ _Anyways_ , T, you coming? I was thinkin’ Franks.”

“You know it. We taking my car or yours?”

“Mine, duh,” he smirked, pushing off the wall and heading out the precinct. Offer Chen managed to walk in sync with him, while RK900 trailed behind the duo.

 

Five minutes later, RK900 sat in the back of Detective Reed’s 2020 BMW. A scan noted a few things. 

Despite its age, the vehicle was well maintained, aesthetically and otherwise. On the drivers' seatbelt, a fabric covering reading NO MRI in bright red resided. In the background, music played at a medium level. A quick search placed it as a metal band from the early 2000s.

 

GAVIN REED:

>Appears to excel in material upkeep

>Favors metal genre music

>Cannot receive an MRI (W̷̡̢͚̘̤̳̼͇̼͓̓h̶̪̣̯͕̊̽̒́͑̾͑̏͘y̶̤͠?̴̜̮̖̭͈̱̖̯̞̎̉͒)

 

The last thing of note was the lack of conversation between the two friends. Instead, Officer Chen was absorbed in her cell phone, while Reed seemed content listening to the music as he drove. 

 

“Detective Reed?”

He looked up sharply, meeting RK900’s gaze through the mirror.

“What is it, tin can?”

RK900 kept a neutral voice as it spoke, “Out of curiosity, why keep a car so outdated?”

“My mom gave it to me as a kid. It never let me down, ‘sides, if it ain’t broken, why fix it? What’s the sudden interest?” His eyes narrowed, presumably out of suspicion.

“Yeesh Gav, cut the poor kid a break,” Officer Chen muttered, elbowing him lightly in the arm.

“Kid? That plastic ain’t a kid, T, it-”

“- was practically born yesterday. He’s technically like, an infant,” Chen interrupted, taking her seatbelt off as the car turned into a parking spot.

“Whatever,” Gavin scoffed, cutting the engine and opening the door.

 

It took another three minutes to get into the establishment and through the line.

RK900 stood back and watched the two order, waiting. 

Over the buzz and echo of the restaurant, it was almost difficult to hear the duo.

 

“Welcome to Franks, may I take your order, sir?” The cashier smiled behind the register.

“I’ll take a number four, please.”

“Would you like to make that a meal?”

“..I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, would you like to make that a meal?”

 

RK900 watched as he furrowed his brow in apparent confusion, turning to Officer Chen.

 

_‘I can’t hear shit. What did she say?’_

RK900 watched as Reed signed to Chen, recognizing the ASL almost immediately.

 _‘Do you want that a meal or just a burger?’_ She signed back.

 _‘Thank you,’_ Gavin signed, his body releasing the tension it held a minute ago.

“Yeah, make it a meal.”

RK900 watched as the rest of the orders were taken, and subsequently followed the pair to a table once they received the food.

 

GAVIN REED:

>Knows American Sign Language 

>May have a hearing disability

 

“I didn’t realize you know sign language, Detective Reed.”

“Do you have to analyze every little thing I do? Shit,” Gavin said, voice muffled by the burger in his mouth.

“I apologize. You said that I cannot talk about the case, so I was seeking other topics. Please forgive me,” RK900 spoke cooly from beside Officer Chen.

“That sounded like sass if I ever heard it,” Chen laughed, swallowing her coke.

“Are you sure you’re not deviant?” She finished, turning her head to look up at him.

“I am positive. All systems operating optimally, software is stable.” RK900 met her gaze.

 _“All systems operating optimally,”_ Reed mocked under his breath, shoving fries into his mouth.

“Would you like to share with the class?” RK900 smirked, meeting his eyes.

_“Oh my God!”_

 


	8. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I'm terrible. In my defense, I am a double major with a language minor, while being pre-medicine and working a job. Don't hate me. This is short, next chapter should be longer.

“ **Would you like to share with the class?** ” RK900 smirked the slightest bit, meeting his gaze.

“ _Oh my God!_ Since when could you do _that_?!” Gavin sputtered, the remnants of his food sluggishly (and painfully) sliding down his throat. That thing could use other people’s voices?!

“The RK900 series was equipped this ability shortly after its initial creation and has been perfected through each subsequent revision of the model. To my knowledge, I am the latest version of the RK900 series, and thus the sound mimicry ability is the most advanced released by Cyberlife at this point in time. I do not require real-time analysis of a voice sample, so long I have a stored memory of the sample.”

“What? I thought they had 200,000 units of your model packaged and ready to go, you know, for the State Department?” Tina chimed in, eyebrows slightly furrowed. 

“Merely a bluff. Cyberlife was waiting for the go-ahead for official deployment, per President Warren’s request. Her reasoning was, ‘ _If one of these models found its way into the wrong hands, the extensive work put into the unit would have been for naught, not to mention could risk national security_.’ ” RK900 explained, using the memory of the meeting with Warren to mimic her voice.

“Ohh my god, so you’re telling me you’ve been keeping this super-power a secret? Oh ho, Anderson is in for it now,” Gavin smirked.

“My technological capabilities are not a toy, Detective Reed,” RK900 frowned.

“I bet you wish it was, though.” Tina murmured, watching Gavin’s face for the joy of his reaction. She loved messing with him, he took things too seriously sometimes.

“What?”  
“What?!”

Both Gavin and RK900 voiced, one out of pure confusion and one incredulously.

Tina couldn’t take it, throwing her head back as she laughed.

“Don’t blow a vessel, babe.” She sighed, pretending to wipe a tear from her eye.

“I seriously hate you sometimes,” Gavin rolled his eyes.

Gavin watched as the android looked between Tina and himself, confusion deepening on its face as it seemed to scan them, trying to work something out.

“Spit it out tin can, we ain’t got all day,” He prodded, taking a sip of his drink.

“I was not informed that you two are romantically involved,” It clipped back.

“Do we need to order you new eyes, plastic?” Gavin laughed, all genuine and lacking its usual malice.

“No, I-”

“God no. Didn’t you know that Gavin is en-”

“Gay!”

Gavin didn’t miss the surprised look she threw his way. 

“Well, we better get back. Cases to solve, people to lock up.” Gavin spit out in the awkward silence that ensued. It didn’t make it any less awkward. 

*****

Gavin really wished he didn’t rush back to the precinct. 

This thought crossed his mind only as he walked towards his desk to find no one other than his fiancé sitting in his chair. Suddenly, he yearned for the awkward atmosphere of the car ride back.    

“Hey, wha- what are you doing here?” Gavin said, with a tight-lipped smile.

“I texted you. I was going to take you out to lunch, but… I can see I’ll have to reschedule.” Matthew replied, his gaze flicking between the soda cup clutched in Gavin’s hand and the android standing next to him.”

Pulling out his phone, Gavin checked is messages. None from Matthew.

Feeling the androids gaze on him, he put on an apologetic smile.

“You’re right Matt, that’s my bad. I’ll make it up to you?”

“Yeah… look I gotta get going. I’ll see you later,” He said stiffly.

Gavin watched his fiancé get up from his chair and leave the building, shoulder checking the RK900 on his way out.

Surprisingly, the first thing out of the tin cans’ mouth wasn’t an interrogation about Matthew.

“Are you… going to be okay?”

If Gavin said he wasn’t caught off guard, he’d be lying. 

“Why do you care?” He gritted out. Deflect and move on. His signature move in the navigation of socializing.

“Your body language suggested that you were extremely uncomfortable in the presence of this _Matthew Mitchel Giddings_. This level of discomfort may impede our investigation, or put you in danger in the field. As your partner, I -”

“I am fine. I’m not ‘ _impeding’_ shit. **You’re** the one prolonging an unnecessary conversation, Robo-cop.”

The android’s LED must’ve changed color five times before it turned, making way to its desk before stopping halfway.

“Detective Reed, Captain Fowler has requested that we visit one of three popular bars that have had multiple android deaths in the last three weeks. Should we depart now?”

God damn it. 

“Ugh... fine. Just, fill me in on the way.”

He can’t ever catch a break, huh?


End file.
